Monthly Archives: September 2013

Okay since this wordpress thing is not helping as far as getting comments to post half the time (and the other half it doesn’t show comment options from what I am understanding) I am going back to blogger.

My husband has been really very ill in the last two months. Last week landed him in the hospital after a near disaster in the local emergency room-he was transferred elsewhere. Bottom line is that he has been in serious denial that his lifelong drinking has caused serious liver damage. He is now being referred to a transplant center.

I noticed that there is a stigma towards him in the medical world-I didn’t think his first liver doctors were very concerned because of the nature of his illness (He did it to himself). And yes, he did do it to himself but no he didn’t. He is an addict and at some point it was hard for him to move past that. I don’t condone his past behavior-but lets just say that alcoholism runs very deep in this family tree. Besides, if you are charging a pound of flesh as a doctor then do your fucking job and don’t let bias enter the picture. My husband should of been told the seriousness from the start instead of , “well you quit drinking for now and life will be dandy from here on out. ” That is just not how liver failure works and a G.I. should know that.

My G.I. knows it. I had cancer though and that made me a victim. My G.I. was unavailable to see my husband. I dont’ know it would of mattered.

And so now he is on a low sodium diet meaning I get to count crap like that whenever I cook-so fun. We might (we should and I want to) sell the farm and the hell out of dodge. I hateit here now. It was a dream that has turned into a nightmare for me.

At some point in the last few weeks of hell that I endured because my husband was drinking, I realized that I lie alot. I lie to the blog audience about how idyllic my life is. Fact is that I was ashamed to be married to an alcoholic and sometimes I didn’t even think about it at all-like it was normal. And he himself is very ashamed of himself too. When I realized how shame contributes to denial-that is when i started to tell the truth.

The odds for him are slim-if he stops drinking forever he has 5 years before he needs a transplant-and even then he might not get one or his health may not allow him to have one. And if he does drink he has 2 years.

Of course this is just a synopsis (if only my life was just a fictional bad film and not reality!) There is alot underlying it and nothing I do right now-no amount of yoga, vegetarianism, permaculture, gardening locovore, etc. is going to make any of this better right at this moment.

The life we worked for is over. He does not get it as of now-he will. As he gets more fatigued over time, we won’t be able to live here. Its hard. And its foolish. We have no support and I can go as far as to say that the majority of people around here are evil and perverse.

Where to next though?

about the title

a finjan is a coffee or tea cup in arabic. more specifically its a cup used to first drink turkish coffee and then read the remaining grinds. my granny m. was very good at this unless it came to me. when she read my cup-over and over again-she saw wedding bells and then later on many children. good things. so i write here about my life in the hopes that she was right about me.